


I d̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ shouldn't care

by rtz684



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Akiyama being a nice guy I guess, Angst, Fushimi being cute with kids, M/M, Pre-Reconciliation, Pre-S1, jealous Yata, some OCs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 02:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6933970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rtz684/pseuds/rtz684
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As an enemy one doesn't care what the other does.</p><p>As a friend one wishes for the other's happiness, no matter who that happiness is shared with.</p><p>So why does it hurt so much...?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I d̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ shouldn't care

As typical as it may seem, it started with a fight.

 

Their auras clashed together, fighting to dominate the other ― growling, biting and retreating defensively before biting again like two hungry predators would. As always, Yata had his teeth clenched together, his eyes shining with anger and hatred. As always, Fushimi was grinning unabashedly, eyes wide and filled with amusement.

 

Sometimes, because SCEPTER4 and HOMRA clashed so often and interfered each other’s business, an actual meeting was accorded to discuss about the matters more calmly – For a change. Since the Red King refused to set a foot in SCEPTER4 ― which was probably for the best, taking in count his well-known destructive temper ― the blues top positions where the ones to go to HOMRA for said meetings.

 

And of course Fushimi wasn’t happy with the idea of going into _that place_ , much less when those red idiots would be there, staring at him like the ‘traitor’ he was and obviously displeased with their presence. Still, attending was mandatory – Munakata had made himself very clear about that – So he had gone and ignored everyone around him just to stay beside his superiors as they made the formal greeting to Suoh and Kusanagi. Tostuka, sitting aside with the other barbarians, had waved his hand happily at him ― what the hell. And after no more than five minutes when his presence wasn’t strictly required anymore, he left the bar and waited outside for the thing to be over.

 

That was when he saw Misaki, who was never in the bar at those times – From all the people in HOMRA he hated them the most, and he couldn’t stand watching them, sitting and talking to his family like they were at home. The vanguard simply wandered around the bar in case anything happened and didn’t go back in until the others where long gone.

 

Their eyes met and not that much time after, they were already fighting in a near alley, circling and throwing attacks at each other. Same pattern for about three years now.

 

“What, Misaki, already soaked in sweat aren’t you? Need some rest or something?” Fushimi taunted, taking a step back in order to avoid another blow effortlessly.

 

“Shut up! I could go for hours!” Yata yelled, red fire roaring as it was thrown at the enemy.

 

“Fushimi-san! Yatagarassu! Cease your fighting!”

 

Both of them turned in the direction of the voice, who belonged to young man with a serious expression. The characteristic coat he wore along with the rest of the uniform marked him as a blue clansman, and just the sight of it made Yata return to his previous frown.

 

Fushimi, on the other hand, recognized the man and made dispassionate face. “If I recall correctly, its subordinates who take orders from superiors and not the other way around?”

 

“It is. Which is why we both have to obey to Lieutenant’s instructions.” The guy said unfazed by Yata’s and Fushimi’s annoyed attitude. “We are going back” He added.

 

At that, the third in command made an irritated ‘tching’ sound. He hesitated for a moment, but ended up seething his sword reluctantly.

 

 “Such a killjoy.”

 

The green-haired finally turned his eyes to Yata, who had been looking between him and Fushimi with growing frustration. Yata stared back at him as soon as he noticed and the newcomer narrowed his eyes, though with an analysing expression instead of a threatening one “I will tell Lieutenant Awashima that I found you waiting for us in an alley, working on your PDA” he said after a moment of silence keeping his eyes on the red head.

 

Yata’s expression got even more unfriendly at his words. Fushimi, who was half-heartedly collecting his knives from the walls and the ground; looked back at his co-worker — since he had his back turned to him at that moment – and gave a playful little smile. “Hmm~…” He hummed, eyes lidded.

 

Something about their little exchange was getting on Yata’s nerves. “Are you looking down on me!? I ain’t obeying no blues rules, also I have some traitor’s ass to kick right now so get the fuck out of here!”

 

The guy was about to respond something when Fushimi placed a hand on his shoulder, apparently over with his previous task. When he looked at his superior, Fushimi had the smirk from before back on his face. “Too bad, but seems like play time is over Misaki~.” He said, and shrugged flatly “I’ll be seeing you around, then.”

 

Both of them started walking away and Yata stomped on the ground as hard as he could, growling in anger “I HOPE YOU GET HIT BY A TRUCK AND DIE!” He yelled.

 

Even after the blue clansmen where nowhere to be seen anymore, Yata stayed there, tense all over. He glared at the ground for a good minutes. What the fuck? He hated SCEPTER4 ― and now that guy particularly. He hated Saru, he hated him so damn much. But didn’t Saru hate everyone? Sure, he respected ― if you could call that respect. ― the superiority hierarchy in whatever they had going but he had expected more… Resistance.

 

 _Let’s go back._ Scoffing, he turned and walked back to the bar. Alone.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Fushimi was about to cry. Okay, maybe not cry, but his eyes where this close to tearing now. No wonder since he had had them exposed to nothing but darkness and computer light for the last — Days? Weeks? ― between working too much and sleeping too little. Maybe the hot temperature had something to do with that, too ― they were entering August now and the heat was getting a little harder to deal with. Fucking strains, fucking paperwork and fucking everything. At some point, his brain had stopped functioning properly and now he was just reading and typing more and more words without processing any of it. Still, he refused to take a break. He wanted to get it out of the way as soon as possible — though it wasn’t like he did anything else aside from working, so what was really the point?

 

Something hit his desk and he lifted his tired gaze expecting to see another stack of paperwork. But he didn’t. There was a hand there, and he slowly looked up tracing with his eyes the following arm that undoubtly belonged to Awashima Seri — he discovered when his eyes finally met hers. He probably would have noticed it much sooner if he had been… Well, alive, at the moment.

 

She looked angry for some reason. “Fushimi. I have a task for you.”

 

“If you haven’t noticed, I am quite occupied as it is right now, thank you.” Fushimi said, frowning.  While he knew that using that tone and way of speaking was quite bold of him, directed to the icy lieutenant, it didn’t hold his usual bite either. He had no time for this, much less the energy.

 

She didn’t pay it attention. “I know. That’s why I want you to do it.”

 

He raised an eyebrow and for the first time noticed Akiyama standing behind her. “It’s about the weekly errands. Today it was Akiyama and Benzai’s duty, but Benzai-kun got injured during the last mission and he is still recovering in the infirmary.”

 

Ah. The weekly errands were stupid purchases for food and other domestic stuff which would be something a househusband and not a special division squad member should do — and that Munakata made them do because he was the only boss in the word that liked making his subordinates lose time instead of doing actual work _. I do feel proud of guiding such magnificent hardworking men in the path of justice, but you might as well remember that the bonds created while walking said path are essential in order to reach the aim we fight for._ God, he really was exhausted. Just recalling those words was making his head hurt like the way it did when the Captain first said them.

 

The squad members were paired with whoever they roomed with for the so-called errands, and every week the assigned pair was in charge of doing them. Sharing time with their comrades outside of work would supposedly help them strengthen their bonds or whatever. Good thing he didn’t have to participate in that stupid idea. “Ugh. Go ask somebody else, then. Plenty of slackers to choose from.” He said, going back to what he had been doing.

 

“Fushimi. How long since the last time you took a day off?” Raising his head back up, the third in command gave her an annoyed, questioning look. “You haven’t left this building for two weeks now. You barely sleep or eat, either.” She then adopted that firm tone that indicated this was the end of the conversation. “I may not have the authority to make you take care of yourself, but I _can_ make you walk outside as part of your duty.”

 

There was a long moment of silence and staring. “Are you serious…?” Fushimi asked, incredulous. But Awashima’s hard look didn’t waver, and of course she was. “…” He let out a long defeated sigh. “…Fine.” Fushimi didn’t understand how such an imposing person could show something similar to a mother instinct at times. To him it was just a huge bother. He closed the laptop, stood up and left to his room to get ready.

 

Fifteen minutes later they were both out of the headquarters and heading to the store. Even though neither of them had the uniform on, most of the people of the neighbourhood near SCEPTER4 recognized them and gave them curious looks as they walked by. Well, seeing two officers in casual clothes walking side by side, one of them carrying a note in one hand and a plastic bag in the other, was quite a rare.

 

Fushimi glared at all of them, hands inside the pockets of his jeans as he walked practically kicking the ground with each step. Akiyama kept a neutral expression as he read down the list of things they had to buy. After a long time walking under the unforgiving sun Fushimi reached his limit of annoyance and broke the silence. “Hey, we’ve passed like three convenience stores by now. Where are we even going?”

 

“Lieutenant Awashima wants a special brand of anko that cannot be found everywhere, we have to get it at a specific supermarket.”

 

“Tsk!” What bonding activities, what looking after anyone’s health… Weren’t they simply being treated like servants? “Are we close yet?”

 

“Yes. It’s just around the corner.”

 

After a few minutes they found their selves in front of a shop which had nothing remarkable about it really, at least not on it’s front. The automatic doors opened and they stepped in. The inside wasn’t any different from the outside, just a big convenience store with more products than a regular one. At least it had air conditioner. But it was noisy. Really noisy. Voices, the sound of plastic bags being moved around and the buttons of devices for credit cards being pressed filled the place. Fushimi cringed “Let’s just get this over with.”

 

They walked around the shop gathering various items, Akiyama guiding them and Fushimi following him with his grumpy attitude. Most of the things on the list where common ingredients for the canteen and drinks to refill the vending machine, although some cleaning products were written down too. What stood out most were the numerous kinds of tea ― courtesy of Munakata ― and of course, the anko.

 

Once they arrived at the vegetable section the younger man didn’t bother to hide his disgusted expression. “Does Fushimi-san dislike vegetables?” Akiyama asked curiously, picking up some lettuce.

 

“I _hate_ them.” He answered, staring at the offensive products while keeping distance as thought they would attack him.

 

“That won’t do. You need to keep a variated diet in order to stay healthy.” Akiyama shook his head lightly as he put what they needed in the bag.

 

“You don’t say.” He scoffed and looked away. “It doesn’t concern you anyway. Are we done already?”

 

The other nodded and they walked to the cash register together. They were going through the lacteous section when something called Fushimi’s attention. Mild vanilla ice-cream. He suddenly remembered it’s taste, sweet but gentle in his mouth ― at a time, he thought he could keep living on this and even if that took away a lot of years of his life, it would be worth it. He hadn’t had it in so long. How long exactly? Middle school? No… It was a little mo-.

 

Better not to let his mind wander that way.

 

Still, it wouldn’t be so bad to have it once again. Fushimi stared at the ice-cream silently as no one tried to interrupt his thoughts, mildly forgetting that he was doing this as part of his job ― if it could be called that, anyway ― and that he had someone waiting. It couldn’t hurt, just to have a little bit. It _was_ really hot. He had his own money with him, and it was the perfect occasion too…

 

Before he knew it his arm was reaching out for the ice-cream and his hand brushed the product’s container. But then something else was touching his skin.

 

Another tiny hand. Fushimi whipped his head in surprise and found a cute childish face in front of his.

 

He withdrew his hand rapidly and the child blinked. His big eyes shone as he studied him with surprise. Fushimi held his gaze uncomfortably, his mouth twitching. _Ugh._  The child then shifted his gaze to the ice-cream before looking back at him. “Onii-chan wants this?” He said, tilting his head to the side.

 

Fushimi finally reacted. “AH No! Err… You can take it.” He blurted out, awkwardly.

 

Once again the little stranger looked at the ice-cream container which was the only one of that certain brand disposed on the shelf. And frowned. Finally taking it, he turned to the officer and offered it to him with a determined expression. “You have it.”

 

He really didn’t know what to do. He was an adult, in this kind of situation of course he was supposed to let a child have whatever it was that he wanted  ― it wasn’t like he himself wanted ice-cream _that much_ ― but the brat insisted in giving it to him for some reason. Which for a child was quite uncommon, actually, but that didn’t matter. “No, really… I don’t―”

 

 _“_ Sachihiro! Where are you?” A female voice called from behind him, sounding concerned. “Sachi― Oh. Here you are.” A thin woman who looked about twenty-five or maybe a little more stopped near them. She watched the little scene of the child extending a container of ice-cream to a young grown-up and smiled confusedly “What are you two doing?”

 

Fushimi straightened his back and coughed a little, trying to regain a professional attitude “Sorry, the kid was going to take that but now he seems to insist on me doing it.”

 

“Oh.” Her brown eyes widened and she started apologizing with a troubled expression. “I’m so sorry if my child bothered you.” She said, tugging a strand of chestnut hair behind her ear. It was the same colour as the child’s. Fushimi shook his head politely.

 

The woman looked down at her son and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, didn’t I tell you not to cause trouble to strangers? If he says he doesn’t want it then that’s that. Apologize to him and I’ll buy it for you so that you can have it at home, ‘kay?”

 

“But he does!” The child said without looking away from the other, and shook the object a little in front of him, for more emphasis. Fushimi’s eyebrow twitched as he tried to keep calm ― the kid’s loud voice was starting to make other clients look their way.

 

“Sachihiro. Leave him alone” She warned.

 

“But it’s true! Mom!” Sachihiro looked up at her with desperate eyes. She kept and scolding look on her own and Fushimi decided this was a stupid conversation.

 

“It’s okay. I’ll take it if you really do not want it.” He shrugged.

 

Her eyes shone and she looked at him with surprise ― though her expression was relieved “You will? Are you sure?”

 

Fushimi rolled his eyes trying to look as though he was doing this entirely to keep the child content and to get his mother out of the awkward situation; having never wanted the ice-cream in the first place  “Yeah.”

 

“Thank you so much!” She said brightly. The third in command finally took the product that was given to him and the woman bowed and left, taking Sachihiro with her. The child turned one last time to look at him and waved his hand happily as if something great had happened.

 

It was then when Fushimi noticed his co-worker, who had seen it all from not too far, trying and failing not to show the warm smile that now adorned  his lips. _Oh, come on._ “Is there anything you want to say?” He hissed dangerously, glaring daggers at him.

 

“Nothing at all.”

 

“ _Good_.”

 

After paying for the items they exited the shop back to the blazing sun. The younger covered his eyes with his hand, the sun rays stabbing them from the front. Already he was starting to feel sticky with sweat. This is why he hated summer. Lowering his head, he glanced at the tiny plastic bag he carried, inside the milky product swayed a little with every step ― they put it aside from the rest, since it was Fushimi’s and Fushimi’s alone.

 

The heavier bag was being carried by Akiyama, who walked a few steps before him. The green-haired was calm, quiet and efficient; he wasn’t as cheerful as Hidaka, who insisted in trying to befriend him ― always keeping a certain distance due to Fushimi’s intimidating aura. He wasn’t like the others either, avoiding him as much as they could, feeling under pressure just from his mere presence. Akiyama just acted normally around him, respecting Fushimi as his superior at work but ― and even if he minded himself from saying those words in front him ― also as a reliable companion.

 

Nothing like _him_ , of course ― no one would ever be to him what that loud middle schooler of sparkling eyes and big smiles once was. But still, from all the people he worked with, Akiyama was the less annoying. He made him feel… Comfortable.

 

“Fushimi-san?” Fushimi looked up at the sound of his name and found that Akiyama had stopped when he noticed his superior walking slower. His brows were raised slightly as he stared at him. “What’s wrong? Should we have bought sunscreen too?”

 

“Hm?” He looked at the hand on his forehead. The older might have been worried about his lack of energy combined with his thin complexion and paper white skin under the burning heat. “Tsk.” He looked away. “I’m fine.”

 

“Ah. Okay”

 

Looking at Akiyama turn again, Fushimi shifted his gaze to the bag the other carried, noticeably larger than his own. Akiyama never mentioned anything about how he was doing all the work with him simply following after.

 

And regarding how a few months before he shut up about Fushimi’s little unauthorised fight with a different clan’s member ― with _him_ ― he supposed he did owe him at least this much.

 

He startled Akiyama by taking one of the handles of the plastic bag out of nowhere. The older opened his mouth but Fushimi interrupted before anything could come out of it. “The drinks are getting warm and you are too slow” He said quickly, keeping gaze to the front and walking faster.

 

Akiyama stared at him for a few seconds before his expression relaxed and he smiled a tiny smile ― which Fushimi deliberately ignored. They walked side by side, each of them with a handle in hand plus Fushimi’s little ice-cream bag on his other side.

 

“So…. Have you always been liked by kids like these?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The little bell on the door rang and Kusanagi lifted his eyes in time to see Bandou stepping in with a casual greeting, followed by the other too.

 

“Welcome back.” He smiled from behind the counter as the three men flopped on the stalls in front of him, seemingly exhausted. “Did you get everything?”

 

“Yeah.” Bandou answered placing the bag from the supermarket on the wooden surface. “Oh, except from that weird red bean paste.” He added with a grimace.

 

Kusanagi blinked “How unusual.”

 

“Making us go through half Tokyo to get that rich ass stuff…” Behind the sunglasses his eyes rolled back into his head and he raised his arms in frustration “…Just for it to be gone once we got there!”

 

“ _Aaaaah_ it’s so hot today.” Whined Chitose, brushing the hair of his nape with one hand. He had both elbows together with his other forearm resting on the counter as he sat next to Bandou and directly in front of the bartender.

 

“Now, now…” Kusanagi brushed them off and lit a cigarette with a snap of his fingers _. So they_ _had no anko left, uh…_ He thought with an absent minded smile.

 

“That was heartless, Kusanagi-san! Even though we could have gotten it at the shop across the street… What did you even want that weird paste for, anyway?” Insisted Bandou.

 

Giving a nonchalant hum, the blonde looked away and finally noticed the hunched figure sitting at the other side of Chitose. His eyes widened.

 

“What happened to Yata?”

 

There was a moment of silence. The other two boys exchanged a grave glance. “We… Encountered Fushimi on our way.” Chitose murmured.

 

Suddenly the bar’s temperature seemed to fall a few degrees colder. Kusanagi stood unmoving as surprise turned into understanding in his mind, and then the three men looked cautiously at the vanguard. Yata had both arms folded in front of him and his head resting on them, hidden from the other guys. From the moment he had sat down, he hadn’t said a word or moved an inch as though he was isolated from the world. It was definitely different to how they were used to seeing him, loud and happy, bursting with energy and will to do anything, anytime.

 

The only times that Kusanagi got to see him like this were… “I see.”

 

Chitose looked back at the barman and kept going still in that low tone of voice.  “It’s not like anything happened.  We saw him coming out of the store you sent us to.” He raised hand to the side of his mouth and whispered “With another guy.”

_So that was it._ Kusanagi sighed, exhaling the smoke from his lungs. He should have known. If there was someone that could turn HOMRA’s vanguard into such a miserable looking person, it had to be Fushimi. During their fights, the two of them radiated fury, resentment, frustration… _Hate_ , no room for other emotions. And even if they were risking being killed, the truth was they were more alive than ever. But the blue clansman never got to see how devastated Yata looked afterwards.

 

Kusanagi had, though — he had seen those smiles plastered on his friend’s face, while his eyes were empty and dull. Had seen how he tried to act like his usual excited self but only managed half-hearted enthusiasm. How he swallowed more often than not and averted his gaze as much as possible in order not to let his voice crack, the wetness in his eyes overflow. He didn’t know how those encounters affected Fushimi but he suspected the other couldn’t leave them aside like nothing ever happened, either — no matter how much he tried to.

 

Today it was different. Today Yata wasn’t even _trying_ to pretend he was fine — and yet they hadn’t even fought. Yeah, just the mention of _the traitor_ made the vanguard curl his fists in anger, so it was to be expected that meeting him would affect him as well. But this…? He looked completely broken, isolated from the rest. He wasn’t crying — he wasn’t making a sound. It was so unlike him that while the rest of HOMRA usually knew better than to talk to Yata about anything concerning Fushimi — or to talk to him about anything at all when he was in that kind of mood — it was certainly worrisome. The blond even contemplated the idea of trying to comfort him — Yata would hate that though, and Kusanagi knew it.

 

And all because… He had seen Fushimi from the distance, walking alongside some guy? Kusanagi smiled wryly at the redhead. So those were the kind of feelings Yata had buried under the hurt and despise…

 

He took something from under the counter and held it out to the hunched figure. Bandou and Chitose, who had kept chatting about something else while Kusanagi stared thoughtfully at Yata, shut up looking their way and the sudden heavy silence made Yata rise his head slowly. His face was expressionless but at the same time so moving Kusanagi felt something tighten in his chest. “Orange juice. It’s on the house.”

 

Yata scoffed — but the barman didn’t miss the way his lips trembled momentarily. “Don’t treat me like a child.” The protest came without sentiment, and he took the drink that was being offered to him. Kusanagi only smiled further, sadly.

* * *

 

 

 

Ironically, while that second meeting happened about two months after the first one, their following encounter occurred just a few days after that.

 

It wasn’t like the kings discussions where always fruitless — not exactly — but even if they _did_ solve things sometimes there were others in which neither of them was willing to back off. Mostly, territory related matters. And so, it wasn’t unusual that whenever a persecuted strain — SCEPTER4’s jurisdiction — entered the red’s domain the two clans would end up fighting inevitably. 

 

Yata had learnt somewhere that the monkey’s position in the blue’s system had something to do with intel and computers, and not directly fighting on the battlefield, but to why he kept finding him whenever they were against them, he didn’t know nor care in the least. Today he was angry. Not just _I’m meeting my former best friend and he’s smiling that creepy smile of his and I want to smash his head into the pavement_ angry, no… — he was absolutely mad. Even though the fucking traitor hadn’t opened his shitty mouth to make fun of everything he loved yet, he _was_ smiling like _that,_ and his hateful smile made Yata remember the other one.

 

The smile only he had been able to evoke during happier times. The smile that was so hard to get and that he had made — involuntarily, sincerely — for that whatever his name  was SCEPTER guy while they were taking a walk in casual clothing like the great buddies they were.

 

And that, that made hell burn inside Yata.

 

His nails dug into his palms, his eyes where shining like the ones of an animal ready to _kill_ , and before he knew it he had latched himself at the other with a war cry. He saw Fushimi’s eyes widen in surprise for an instant and the next he was ready to counter the blow. Fushimi dodged lazily time after time like he always did but it was obvious that he was more focused this time, having a harder time rejecting attacks than usual.

 

And from the redhead’s side, he only saw red. Something was fuelling his arms and legs from his very soul, something similar to hate but at the same time different, and one could say that his mind was blank if it wasn’t for the redness that invaded every corner of it, completely blinding him. He hit harder, he yelled louder, he rolled faster — the abrupt turns he did at high speed on his board were the ones that usually made him end up losing equilibrium, but today it wasn’t happening.

 

That something _overwhelmed_ him. He felt like he could cry his insides out. Burning. And burn the whole world down with him until there wasn’t a speck of dust left. _Is this what being a king feels like?_ Luckily, he was no King.

 

He swung his bat at Fushimi and the other barely managed to block it with his sword. But Yata was stronger, felt stronger, and his bat which was swung with full force sent the other’s weapon flying.  His ex-best friend didn’t have time to react this time and he paled, processing what just happened at the same time Yata threw him to the ground.  Fushimi hissed as his back, and then his head collided with the ground, shutting his eyes. The redhead fell atop of him, straddling his hips, and raised his bat without thinking.

 

Their eyes met. Neither of them moved, staring at each other and panting. Yata’s arm was still in the air. He watched Fushimi, covered in bruises. His uniform was a mess, he was sweating and he looked even paler than usual. His lips were parted slightly as he breathed agitatedly and the look in his eyes was shocked. It was for the almost unnoticeable shift in those eyes that Yata caught his wrist out of reflex, the knife he had just pulled from his sleeve clutched in those long fingers. He took it from Fushimi and threw the bat away, pinning the blue to the ground with his now free hand and holding the knife to his throat.

 

Something in those blue eyes changed again and Fushimi didn’t even struggle. He _chuckled_. “Well, well, Misaki… Seems like you will finally fulfil a promise, after all.”

 

Yata frowned. “What are you talking about?” He said between pants.

 

“You don’t remember…?” Fushimi raised an eyebrow before smiling darkly and he closed his eyes, turning his head to the side. “Figures.” He scoffed.

 

His frown deepened. He didn’t know what the other was talking about. _Why aren’t you fighting? Why aren’t you pushing me off?_ Did he disrespect him enough to allow himself to be smug, in that kind of situation?

 

“If you are going to do anything, just do it. Don’t keep me waiting.”

 

There was silence as Yata’s look questioned him. Fushimi didn’t move, just stayed where he was, breathing slowly, the skin of his neck moving up and down against the sharp metal… And then Yata understood. Promise. The dark alley, the burned insignia…

 

_I’ll fucking kill you, traitor._

For a moment, he couldn’t believe it. “You…” His gaze sharpened. He felt anger boiling in his body, burning as if his blood was fire in his veins. But at the same time a powerful feeling tugged at his chest, desperation and incredulity with a horrible pang of hurt and sadness. A part of him, the angry side that hated Fushimi and wished nothing more but to strangle him with his hands seemed calm, as if it was the right thing to do. They hated each other, they both wanted the other’s deaths and if the blue had been in his position he would have already slashed his throat open without a second thought — Yata was sure of that. Yet the other part of him, the part that still, after all those years, kept searching in Fushimi’s eyes to for a signal, something that proved that his Saruhiko was still there behind all the masks of shadow wouldn’t let him even start to imagine killing him.

 

Yata clenched his fingers around the other’s wrists until his hands were shaking from the force “You would let me do it… Just like that?” He said through gritted teeth. It was wrong. Was he… playing with him? Taking advantage of the weakness he had always felt and still felt towards him? Was he making fun of Yata? He pressed the knife a little more firmly against the smooth skin, feeling the pulse underneath it quicken as goose bumps grew on the spot. Fushimi opened his eyes and looked sideways at him, locking gazes. He wasn’t smiling anymore, face unreadable and his sapphire eyes were focused, intense. Serious. No, there was no mocking in that look. It made Yata’s throat feel constricted and he had to swallow against it. “What… What is wrong with you!?” He leaned closer to that expressionless face, yelling. As if Fushimi was sleeping and he was trying to wake him up. Yeah, there was definitely desperation in his voice now. He’d rather have Fushimi laughing at him, insulting him, anything but the way he was now, unmoving and surrendered, resigned to death as if he didn’t even care “You can’t… YOU CAN’T DO THAT! Are you making fun of me!? You have to be, right!?” Yata’s whole body was trembling and it wasn’t fair.

 

Fushimi blinked — as if like Yata had expected the officer to kill him at the smallest chance, he too had expected Yata to break his head in two the second he stopped fighting. Then the surprise was gone, or more accurately, hidden under Fushimi’s forced indifference. He shrugged “I lost.” He said simply.

 

“So what!?” Yata yelled again, his voice louder with every word. His chest hurt, so did his throat and his eyes stung but he didn’t pay it attention. _Come on. Do something. You knew I couldn’t do it right? You knew it from the start-_ “YOU CAN’T GIVE UP! YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO GIVE UP!” He started panting again from all the shouting. He had so much more to say, but he couldn’t do it. Because he couldn’t let that traitor know — if he didn’t know it already. The things that wouldn’t let him take his life. The way his heart had hurt so deeply by simply seeing Fushimi being happy with someone else as if he was totally fine without him — and wasn’t that just pathetic. Why couldn’t he just get over this guy already? Damnit. _Damnit Saruhiko!_ He was breaking, right there, at that moment. Yata couldn’t escape that analysing stare. Anger and desperation mixed with prohibited feelings he refused to acknowledge and Fushimi was watching him as he tried to keep his composure with all he had.

 

“… And who is it that won’t allow me to do it…?” Fushimi questioned quietly, his eyes fixed in Yata’s face not losing any detail of it. Yata looked away. He wasn’t strong enough to hold that look any longer, not in that kind of situation. He had to say something, he couldn’t expose himself like this — show vulnerability in front of the other man. _Because you can’t die on me. No matter how much you hurt me that is the thing I’ll never be able to stand. Not by my hand, not by anyone else’s. I can’t lose you. You can’t do that to yourself. You can’t do it to me._ “Don’t make me laugh.” He answered with a low and trembling voice “Don’t act like you are so alone, like there isn’t a fucking thing for you to live for. I don’t buy that.” Yata spoke slowly, keeping his voice in check so it wouldn’t crack. He closed his eyes and breathed. He needed to calm down. Fushimi said nothing. “There is… People.” Yata said, not letting go of the weapon nor the swordsman, but the grip he had on both things softened. “Maybe you hate everyone around you but it’s not like that for them _.” It wasn’t like that for me._ Wait… It wasn’t even like that was it? One doesn’t smile like that to people he doesn’t care about. For all the differences they now had he couldn’t deny the evident — Fushimi had liked him at some point, genuinely, and now he… “The Blue King, and that woman… Even if you act like they don’t matter to you, they do.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Fushimi look away also and that confirmation had a rueful smile forming on his lips. “That guy, too.”

 

The blue turned back at him, raising an eyebrow “Whom?” He looked so honestly confused Yata had to appreciate what a great actor he was. Or maybe he really didn’t know what Yata was taking about — the redhead had no reason to know he walked around with that friend of his. If… They were _friends_. The thought that they might not be friends but something different hurt more than it should have and Yata closed his eyes tightly. He _hated_ it. “Yeah… Right.” Fushimi’s eyes widened as the knife was lifted from his neck and he found his hands free. “Misaki…?” Yata let out a humourless chuckle, sounding defeated, and stood up, getting off of him. The taller sat up slowly, rubbing at the bruised wrists and never looking away from Yata who had his back turned. He just couldn’t let the other see him like this. He needed to get away. “I—…” He started, hesitating, and swallowed the lamp in his throat. “… I have stuff to do.” Lame. “More important things than you anyway, damn monkey.” No use. The over-used line wouldn’t save him now. He could feel that stabbing look on him.

 

“You too… Go so _he_ can treat your wounds properly. You look like shit.” Letting the knife fall to the ground, he got on to his skateboard and rolled away, leaving a puzzled Fushimi behind him. The third-in-command watched Yata as he skated further and further away, nor once turning to look back. He didn’t understand what just happened. It wasn’t until several minutes later that he whispered

 

“That’s why I’m saying: Who are you talking about?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

In the dark computer room the screen of the one lit device was the only source of light surrounded by the darkness. It was the only one turned on and working, as there was only one man in the whole room. His rapid typing on the keyboard resounded clearly, the rest of the room silent. Fushimi kept his tired but focused gaze on the screen as he worked. It was about midnight but he wasn’t done yet — no, today he wasn’t overworking himself, he just had a big stack of paperwork to do due to the following day, so he had no other choice but to keep going until he was finished. As expected from a third-in-command he had a lot more of work to do than his subordinates, which was the reason why there was nobody else than him there. He preferred being alone, really, so it was fine

 

Fushimi brushed on his closed eye with the back of his hand in order to dissipate the fog that was clouding his sight. He had had rougher days and he wasn’t complaining, but right at the moment he wanted nothing more than to get those files done and go to his room, flop down on the bottom bed — he didn’t even feel like climbing onto the top one — and fall sleep on the spot, without taking the uniform off or anything. Still no matter how tired he was, working faster by making a more mediocre job was out of question for the young man and he clicked his tongue; taking a ship of the energy drink he had with him and frowning at the computer with determination.

 

The door at the other end of the room opened and Fushimi looked that way, the light filtering into the room and a thin figure that had not quit entered yet, dark against the light from the hall. After a moment, the newcomer spoke up “Fushimi-san are you still working there?”

 

He recognized Akiyama’s calm voice and relaxed a little — he had had no reason to be tense anyway. “Yes. Come on in.” The younger said, looking back down.

 

Akiyama nodded and entered fully, closing the door behind him.  He made his way through the darkness guided by the poor lighting of Fushimi’s computer until he reached his side, and offered the paper he had been carrying with him as his superior continued typing without giving him a glance “It’s the report on today’s mission.” Akiyama explained “Kamo-san came to deliver the rest earlier but seems like he forgot to give you mine.” He bowed his head apologetically. Fushimi hummed in acknowledge “Just leave it there.” He lifted his chin signalling the stack of reports placed next to the computer.

 

Akiyama did as he was told and then stood in silence for a moment, watching the other work “… Do you want any help?” Fushimi clicked his tongue. “No. It’s okay.” “I know it is. But tomorrow is my day off so I have no problem staying up late. And it would accelerate the process.”

 

If there was something he hated, it would be when people pitied him. He would rather be looked at with disgust or indifference than with pity. As if he wasn’t strong enough to take care of himself. As if he needed someone else to help him. Some thought they were doing a good thing, but the truth was they only wanted to feel the satisfaction of being considered good people. They did not care if it made that person feel weak or pathetic.  It may be well considered by society but to Fushimi, it was just an act of egoism. Yet Akiyama was nothing like that. He offered his help in order to make things better, not to be praised for it or just because he was supposed to do it. He didn’t say “need” either, he said “want” because he knew that Fushimi was perfectly capable of doing things by himself and he did not _need_ him. He never faked sympathy either, he just did what he thought right without masking second intentions. For all this, Fushimi tolerated him the best — and even enjoyed his company at times.

 

It wasn’t like the green-haired man to be stubborn about something and Fushimi new that if he rejected him once more he would go away without complaint. Still, Akiyama was right. It would do no harm to let him help, his quiet personality wouldn’t interfere with the younger’s concentration and with him the work would be done much earlier. There was no reason not to let him give a hand. “Okay, then.” Fushimi sighed and took the other’s report in his hands “I’ll correct yours now so you can take it as an example of how to do the rest.” The green-haired nodded and Fushimi started reading the paper.

 

It was nothing out of the ordinary, really. Seems like they had set a trap for some super-powered criminal they had been expecting for a few days thanks to the information collected by the Intel department. The report was well-written and divided in two parts, the first consisted on the strain’s data referring to his abilities, hide-outs and contacts apart from other common information like his age and nationality as well as a physical and psychological description. It also included the date and hour of the arrest, the place in which it took place, objects that were found and requited, leads to other strain criminals… Then the second part narrated the events of the capture of the subject in question in a detailed and formal manner. As expected from him, Fushimi wouldn’t have much to correct in this — this is why he trusted Akiyama to do part of his work.

 

He was about half-way through the report when he found it _. I arrived at the place I was assigned to to block the path for the subject that was expected to use it as a short-cut ― as the leader of the firing unit said. Unexpectedly someone was already there:_

_HOMRA’s vanguard Yata Misaki, also known as Yatagarassu._

Fushimi’s eyes darkened at the sight of the name. He hadn’t seen him nor heard of him in a very long time. “…You never mentioned that HOMRA was involved in the case before this.” He said coldly. Akiyama leaned closer to look at what Fushimi was reading at the moment. “Ah… Well. I hadn’t been informed at the time. In fact, no one had known that they were also after that strain — the neighbourhood is close to the border of the red clan’s territory.” Fushimi gripped the paper a bit more tightly, without noticing. “… I see.” Was all he said still in that serious voice. His eyes were on the paper, though they seemed lost in something very far away.

 

Even though he hadn’t been asked to, the older man kept talking, absentmindedly recalling what had happened. “He looked at me in a threatening manner. But weirdly enough he didn’t yell or attack me, he just… Stared.” Akiyama said thought all of that was already written down. “He was noticeably furious for some reason, though, he lit his aura and for a moment I thought he would really start a fight.” His eyes narrowed. “But then Benzai-san came.” Benzai Yujiro had long since recovered from his injury and now he participated in missions as well as any other special unit member as Akiyama’s partner. “And Yatagarassu… Well. He watched us both and put it out.” At that Fushimi did turn to him, with an incredulous expression. There was no way Misaki would back off just because of being outnumbered by one person. Even if both officers had impressive fighting skills they were no match for the powerful and impulsive vanguard. Akiyama did not return his gaze, he had his hand on his chin and he was looking up in thought. “He didn’t seem scared though… More like he…. Calmed down.” The blue finished with a shrug.

 

The younger looked away. He didn’t know what any of that meant. Come to think of it, Misaki really had been acting weird lately. Lately meaning the last time they had met ― about three weeks prior. And then facing Akiyama today. The Yata Misaki he was accustomed to would have been loud and reckless, he hated SCEPTER4 with everything he had ― that was mostly on Fushimi, but he had already despised them before that, like the rest of HOMRA did. He wasn’t the type to avoid fighting unless it was absolutely necessary. And then, there was their last encounter. He had been this close, this close to ending Fushimi’s life. Nothing had prevented him from doing so. Fushimi hadn’t been sure if the redhead would do it once and for all. But there was no way he would have expected such reaction.

 

To almost break into tears in front of his eyes. “What happened next…?” He asked without realizing what he was doing until the words came out of his mouth ― He still held the report in his hands but it was as if he had forgotten about it.

 

“He stood like that for a long moment, not listening to Benzai’s discourse about SCEPTER4 being in custody of this particular strain and then he rolled away mid-talk.”

 

“… Did he say anything?”

 

“He did not utter a word.”

 

He left? Just like that? Fushimi focused back on the paper reading it lightly. HOMRA wasn’t mentioned anywhere else ― they didn’t interfere with the mission. It wasn’t uncommon for the vanguard to take care of things on his own, but not when the whole SCEPTER4 was involved. Had he gone there without knowing it and then had no other choice but to go back seeing that he wouldn’t be able to success in this alone? … Something told the officer that that wasn’t the case. For once in a long time, he found that he couldn’t understand Yata. Or at least he thought he had before. Maybe he had been wrong.

 

“Yatagarassu is really amazing.” Those words interrupted his thoughts. Akiyama was looking at him with his deep calm eyes and a pensive smile. He didn’t know what that smile was for. “Being able to stand at your level.”

 

Fushimi frowned. “Are you trying to flatter me?”

 

“No.” The green-haired answered, shaking his head. “But you are able to use red and blue auras. I heard that one cannot defend themselves when being attacked with the same aura they hold. For him to be able not to lose to you even with that, I must say it impresses me.”

 

He couldn’t deny that either. Although he may or may not have avoided stabbing Yata’s most vulnerable anatomy parts, with how things had ended last time he started wondering if he himself hadn’t been receiving the same treatment. He suddenly noticed that Akiyama was staring at him with much more intensity now, as if trying to solve a puzzle. Eyes locked with his, he felt as if he was not being looked at but looked into, and an uncomfortable shudder made it’s way up his spine. “What?”

 

The other stayed quiet, gaze unwavering. His eyes weren’t the all-knowing ones that studied him with amusement like Captain Munakata's ― and oh how much he hated to be in the receiving end of that look. Or the way Totsuka used to treat him with some kind of masked pity behind that warm smile, only not quite. No, they were confident and determined as if they hadn’t found the answer they were looking for. Searching. “I was just thinking.” Akiyama said at last “That even though Fushimi-san has faced extraordinary strong enemies, only Yatagarassu has been able to strike you.”

 

It wasn’t true. He had been stricken many times, and had been seriously wounded because of it. Lesions way more grave than the ones Yata had left him, and Akiyama knew it. That was precisely why Fushimi started to dislike the turn the conversation was taking. No, Akiyama  didn’t know, couldn’t possibly know half of the things the red head meant and had meant before to his young superior ― Damn, not even he was sure anymore, sometimes. Still something about _the one that has been able to strike you_ rubbed him in a bad way. He felt exposed even if just a tiny bit, and he did not like that. Fushimi didn’t answer, or asked what he meant by that because he didn’t want to hear the response to such question. He only held the other’s gaze as firmly as he could, keeping his face blank and expressionless. In the inside Fushimi felt as if he wanted to run away.

 

Akiyama seemed to give up on his staring game, because his face returned to normal. “Are you done with my report, then?” He asked, changing the subject. It made Fushimi let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, as he closed his eyes handing the paper back to his author “Yes. I haven’t found any errors whatsoever. Start correcting the others making sure they are as complete as yours.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

They kept working until hours later ― Each of them did half of the work, then Fushimi revised Akiyama’s part and pointed out where the other had missed some mistakes for them to be fixed. Sure enough they were able to finish much earlier that way. Without Akiyama’s help Fushimi doubted he would have been able to get any sleep at all. Even during the work, he couldn’t quite push the thoughts related to his former friend out of his mind, and he would sometimes raise his head expecting to see his subordinate looking at him again with that scrutinizing gaze. Yet every time he did he found Akiyama quietly doing his part of the job, eyes always looking down. The younger decided he would forget about the matter for now, but he would go back to it later. After all, if there was something on Yata’s mind he couldn’t comprehend, the blue wouldn’t stop until he did. There was something definitely weird with the read head and he wanted to know what ― much more if it involved him, and it did Didn’t it?

 

When they were done, the two of them collected their things and walked to the dorms together. They were just about to part ways to reach their respective rooms when Akiyama called out to him once again. “Was it good?” He asked.

 

“…What was?” Said Fushimi, raising an eyebrow. Akiyama was smiling his little warm smile again.

 

“The ice-cream.”

 

 _Oh, that_. The ice-cream he had bought a while ago. He… Had bought it with Akiyama right? During that horrible errand experience ― Fushimi made sure Awashima got a piece of his mind for that, had it been about his health or not. That persistent child had insisted in giving it to him for some reason. He hoped he didn’t have to go through something like that ever again. The ice cream had been nice, though. And… Well. Hanging out with Akiyama… He couldn’t say it had been that bad either ― if not for the heat and that stupid reason. Maybe he was getting a bit attached to him, and that was no good. Allowing someone to enter, allowing himself to like someone was no good, he had been taught that the hard way, and the time he had let it happen, reality made sure to remind him once again. Maybe he had put his guard down around this man because they were being assigned to work together more often, lately.  Since it started, Misaki had begun to act unusually, too…

 

 _Wait_.

 

Hadn’t Misaki said something about…          “ _There is people too.”                 “That guy.”                 “So he can treat your wounds properly.”_ ― What? The blue closed his eyes slowly, letting images from that day sip back into his mind. Misaki’s uncontained rage, his unbelieving eyes. The pain in them and the way his voice cracked as he spoke. So it hadn’t been just about being afraid of killing someone. Not even because he couldn’t end the life of the one who had his once beloved friend’s face. The reason he had been acting so weird was….  Fushimi was aware of the way the corners of his mouth were quirking up, but he didn’t bother to stop it. _I can’t believe this_. It wasn’t just him Misaki had been acting weird around but Akiyama also. He calmed down when he saw him with Benzai, too. “ _Maybe you hate everyone around you but it’s not like that for them.”_

_Misaki… After all that has happened, you…_

 

“Fushimi-san?”

 

Fushimi turned away. He let the untamed feeling of excitement spread through his body, the way it did when he fought the red vanguard, but there was something else. A warm, intoxicating feeling was there too, making him feel light-headed. Something he hadn’t felt in a very long time, since the days of brushing hands and blushing cheeks. Even if he tried he wouldn’t have been able to supress it. Fushimi reopened eyes, glazed over with that overwhelming feeling.

 

“Yeah, it was.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The following day was just as busy as the other one and minutes seemed like hours for the young officer — giving the reports back, scolding Domyoji for drawing on his, _again_ , and lots of other bothersome tasks Fushimi didn’t feel like taking care of. Excitement still pumped through his veins and he found himself looking through the window absentmindedly more often than not. Awashima seemed to notice that, if the long questioning looks she gave him were anything to go by, but she didn’t comment on it. Fushimi was _eager_ to get out of there. He had something to do, after all. He didn’t know what exactly that would be, but he had the general idea, and that was enough.

                                                     

The day after that, when he finally got some free hours, he knew what his destination would be. Misaki wasn’t that hard to find, really. He always liked to roam through some particular places, and Fushimi knew them all by heart. They had gone to all those places together, and in normal circumstances a sentimentalist like the redhead would avoid going near anything that reminded him of that time — yet if Fushimi’s assumptions were right, this time would be different. He was right.

 

The small park was somewhere close to Himuka Middle School, away from the more dangerous neighbourhoods HOMRA moved in. In the summer, during school vacations, the two boys used to sit on the swings and drink cola; sheltered from the sun by the pleasant shade that a big tree projected on them. The older boy’s siblings were too loud and messy for the teens to handle on such hot days, and there was no air-conditioner in Yata’s house either, so they rather spend time in the outside. Fushimi’s house was _never_ a choice. And so, they would stay in that park, talking endlessly about childish fantasies and more mundane things like how they had no idea how to do the assigned homework and that they really were good-for-nothing — that part was just Misaki, though. Eating _vanilla_ _ice-cream_ , too.  Today was that kind of day. Not as hot as when he had gone out with his co-worker, still Fushimi felt that soon he would start sweating, and the park hadn’t changed at all — the bar that surrounded the place, limiting it, and the swings might be a little rusty but that was it.

 

Standing next to the tree, he watched the other’s back turned to him, head hanging low as he sat on one of the swings. The same one he always occupied. Half-heartedly rocking back and forth, the one that used to come to this park with Fushimi was now a young man instead of a boy and the bright smiles and small pouts — _Don’t call me an idiot, idiot! —_ were missing. Even from behind one could tell how miserable he was feeling— and Fushimi knew he the cause of that was. No, satisfied wasn’t the word for what he was feeling but he couldn’t deny something about that knowledge made him feel better. Wanted. Still he couldn’t just go there and talk things with the other as if they were no longer enemies, so he did what he was best at:

 

Fushimi pulled a knife out and started playing with it between his fingers, leaning casually on the tree, a smirk forming on his lips. “Now~, if it isn’t Misaki…” He said, loud enough for the older to hear him.

 

Yata flinched and straightened, though he didn’t whip around immediately. Instead, he turned slowly, plain surprise on his face “What are you doing here…?” He said after a moment of silence.

 

The blue noted how he looked skinnier than usual, and maybe a shade paler — though that might have been from the shock his presence had produced. Yata’s eyes widened the moment their eyes met and his mouth even stayed open. Not only the redhead was meeting him in such a place, but the fact that he was out of his uniform must have also taken him off-guard, Fushimi thought. It had been a long time since the Misaki saw him like that. Years, probably. “I come here all the time.” He lied, supposing the other hadn’t been there in about as long as he had and so had no way of knowing.

 

Yata’s surprised expression turned into an inquisitive frown that confirmed his thoughts. The red’s lips moved, silently forming an unfinished _Why would you—?_ But in the end he shook his head and growled “Leave me alone.”

 

 _Not exactly what I had in mind._ “Hm… What’s wrong, Misaki. Don’t you feel like fighting anymore?” He looked around, and then back at him, this time raising an eyebrow “Or is it because of where we are?”

 

The shorter gripped the swing’s chains tightly, willing his temper to stay cool. “Don’t fucking say another word, you bastard…”

 

He knew he was digging in the wound. Good. “You put up this manly front of yours, but in the end you are just a sentimental kid. That’s why you wouldn’t dare to confront me here.” Fushimi’s smirk turned into a condescending grin, his eyes sharp and gaze mocking. “Why you wouldn’t kill me, either.”

 

It had the desired effect. Yata’s knuckles turned white from the force he was doing, while his face reddened with pure anger. Teeth clenched so hard they almost clattered, and Fushimi saw the flame lit in Yata’s eyes, his whole body was shaking and it made the swing shake too. “You asked for it.” The deep and controlled tone in which the words were said made the hair of the blue’s nape stand on end. Yata was always angry when he saw him, but he could tell this time it was even worse than the others. The combination of the hurtful words, their current location and the events of their last encounter made it like that. It was a different type of rage than the last time, though. There was no sadness or broken feeling at the moment, only undeniable hate.

 

Making a delighted expression, Fushimi lowered his eyelids in what in a different context would have been considered an alluring manner, and turned on his heels signalling the other to follow him. With a growl the redhead walked after.

 

Before Yata knew what was happening his back collided with a wall and suddenly he had his wrists pinned and the sharp metal of the knife against his neck, the blue looming over him with a predatory gleam in his eyes. They were once again in an unnamed alley and Yata snorted at the familiarity of it all — only last time the position had been reverted. He grinned defiantly at the other, eyes locked with his “Didn’t like it that I let you live and gonna show me how it’s done, fucking monkey?” He was physically and mentally exhausted and he didn’t have his skate or weapons with him. Thinking back, now, engaging with the other had been a stupid decision. Not that it mattered anymore.

 

Fushimi wasn’t smiling now, though. His expression was dead serious. “Not really.” He answered with a voice that matched said expression. “I was just wondering about what exactly was going on in that tiny brain of yours concerning me and Akiyama.”

 

“Tche.” The redhead adverted his gaze, mouth twisting in annoyance. _Now_ that _matters to you doesn’t it?_ The simple mention of who he assumed that guy was made him feel irritated as ever. He wanted to kick Fushimi off of him, now. “That his name? Great, I didn’t ask.” He spat out with disgust. “Are ya here to defend your precious boyfriend or wha—.”

 

Fushimi yanked his face back and kissed him.

 

It all occurred in a flash. The clatter of the knife falling to the ground sounded some meters away, and now a hand kept his wrists secured above his head and another gripped his jaw tightly while a pair of lips forcefully pressed on his. Yata’s eyes widened as the reality of the situation dawned on him. For a moment, he couldn’t think or do anything. Only feel as those thin lips moved forcefully against his own. The taller body had him plastered between Fushimi and the wall, and Fushimi’s heart was beating frantically against his chest. From the corner of his eye, he saw a portion of the blue’s face, dark hair marking the pale cheek and Fushimi’s eyes closed. Slowly, he closed his eyes, too. And he started kissing back.

 

A few moments of messy kissing later, Fushimi broke the contact “You are fucking stupid.” He murmured, breathing heavily.

 

“Whatever.” Yata said back before chasing the other’s lips once again. The younger indulged him immediately and they resumed kissing, neither of them willing to waste another second.  

 

Yata tugged on his restraints and Fushimi let go of him, snaking his hands behind the other’s back to circle his waist while Yata clutched the back of Fushimi’s jacket in his hands, pulling him closer. It was everything by gentle. They bit at each other, pulling on their clothes rough enough to tear at them, pressing against each other as if wanting to fuse desperately, more and more, kissing harder and making it impossible to breath. As if they were running out of time. As if their mouths and bodies were really fighting a battle instead of doing what was supposed to be a romantic thing. And it couldn’t be called romantic, either. Or could it?

 

Their heads were also mess at the moment. And yet, they both knew. It was twisted. Wrong. Not what they had wished for, not what they wanted. It shouldn’t have been like this. It should have been tender and loving, not fierce. Not full of anger and hurt as it was. And now, they shouldn’t even be doing it, not this way nor any way else for that matter. Still…

 

They couldn’t help their selves. They needed it.

 

When they parted again it was a mutual thing — if they had kept going, they would have fainted. Their foreheads were touching and puffs of air rose from their breathing. Neither gave a damn about the heat, and so they were both hot and sweating, though it would take a lot more than that to separate them now.

 

They stood like that minute after minute, looking at the ground and wishing they didn’t have to move away, they didn’t have to talk or try to give this a meaning. Only their mixed panting resounded through the alley. After what seemed like a long time Fushimi finally moved, leaning in to whisper to the red’s ear.

 

“Don’t forget.”

 

And nothing else.  Because nothing else was needed.

 

Yata swallowed and rested his head on the other’s shoulder. No, nothing else was needed. Still that much wasn’t enough. Just knowing wasn’t enough. He needed. He wanted. To reach out and touch, reach out to him with his voice, he needed it so much it was chocking him. He let go of the fabric and circled Fushimi’s torso instead, hugging him close. _Don’t go_.

 

But of course the other did. And of course nothing changed after that.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I won't ramble too much about this one. Putting it simple: I love jealous Yata and pre-reconciliation setting for sex/make out. Angst is nice too (Though I'm not that much into tragedy either) and Fushimi being liked by children gives me life. This fic was looong and although I'm pretty satisfied with the structure and the story I'm still not that confident with my writting. Well, constructive critisism is appreciated as always as well as comments in general! Hope you enjoy!


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